


Volcanic Winter (& other tales)

by piades



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, tags reflect latest chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-02 18:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piades/pseuds/piades
Summary: Latest chapter/story: Volcanic WinterQui-Gon sits beside Obi-Wan's bed and tries to understand Obi-Wan, who tries to understand whether he's in present or the past.Everyone's brain hurts.





	1. Time Travel is Insane

Obi-Wan looked down at Anakin on the hot, black ground of Mustafar, his body mangled, his eyes gleaming gold like the tongues of flame that were crawling up his clothes, and the Jedi felt nothing but peace. There was something like a rush of pride in him: he had achieved everything that a Jedi could possibly aim for. Here he was, at the end of his world, the Jedi as a people gone, he had failed as a teacher and as a Jedi and as a being, and he felt at peace.

There is peace.

Anakin was screaming, because he was dying.

Obi-Wan frowned in contemplation. Was it really the Jedi way to watch as the enemy died? Should he leave? Should he speed along the process of Anakin's death?

He approached Anakin with his lightsabre lit. Anakin was brighter in the force than in body. His body was merely aflame, while his spirit screamed in loss and pain and anger.

How utterly irresponsible.

Such attachment to life.

Obi-Wan wanted to teach him the kind of calm that had settled over himself. If only he could teach that to Anakin, but there was no time. He had only just discovered it. He had lost Anakin. And now, it was time—

Anakin had been such a bright child.

Obi-Wan found that he disliked the way that the flames were eating Anakin. He could feel them in the force, and he calmed them, cooling their reaction. They smothered themselves at his direction.

Anakin screamed louder.

Obi-Wan gathered him in his arms, and began looking for Darth Vader's medical facilities.

Obi-Wan was at peace.

He was at peace with Anakin. He was at peace as he directed the droids to tend to Anakin. Nothing could touch him, and with that peace and calm, he could hear, touch and feel everything. He sat near Anakin's unconscious body, knowing that Anakin would receive care. And without even trying, he felt the approach of—

The Sith Lord. Anakin's Master.

A droid approached him and informed him that Anakin was conscious and wanting to speak with him. Obi-Wan followed the droid to Anakin's bedside, and slowly Anakin began to relate a tale to him.

The tale, what little of it Obi-Wan was able to understand in his state of peace, was about Anakin allowing himself to be blinded, and about Anakin having a plan – hatching a plan – to take down the Sith. Palpatine. Darth Sidious.

Obi-Wan listened, and felt Sidious approach in the force. He did not respond to Anakin. There was no need, because everything was at peace – he was at peace. He could sense the future and the past meeting at the present, and everything had been as it was, and was as it should be.

The future was changing, as it should be.

Everything was as it should be.

Anakin asked him questions that didn't need answers, then demanded a response from him. Obi-Wan's tongue felt thick in his mouth.

"I… know," Obi-Wan said.

"No you don't, you don't know anything, you can't even tell what's happening right now can you?"

Sidious was approaching in the force. Luke and Leia were safe. The force presences of the Jedi were leaving. Anakin's old apprentice was biting into a ration bar somewhere. Obi-Wan knew everything.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I know, Anakin."

"Excuse me," one of the droids said, and continued when Obi-Wan waited for it to continue. "If I may. You appear to be in a great deal of shock, if Master is making more sense than you right now, what with his… missing. Bits."

Anakin waved a furious metal hand at him.

Sidious was on-planet.

Through his pain, Anakin grinned at Obi-Wan.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen."

And then, the peace left.

Obi-Wan was buffeted by a gale – a foreign force presence that insinuated itself within him. He fought against it, only to realise he was fighting himself. The gale was himself.

But how – he had never had this strength before. This was the kind of strength that Anakin held. He looked about him, trying to discover source or reason. The universal knowledge which he had had only a moments ago was replaced by sheer confusion.

And death.

Anakin was dead, Obi-Wan realised. There was no presence on the operating table, only a body. There was no force presence in this room other than himself.

What had Anakin done?

What had Anakin done?

A red lightsabre interrupted his thoughts and he ducked away. His own lightsabre came alight in his hand and he blocked the blade. Behind it, Darth Sidious' golden eyes gleamed with ruby highlights.

The Sith chuckled.

"So the boy betrayed us both," he said, a strangely wistful note in his voice. "And now he has incorporated his presence into yours. How inconvenient of him."

Obi-Wan was a gale, a storm. His actions were his emotions – and they were fast and deadly. They launched themselves at the Sith Lord with movements of his feet and his lightsabre. The Sith matched every one of them, delighted.

"What a creature he created!" Sidious said, delighted. "And you will kneel before me as well. I know—"

But it was Obi-Wan who knew.

At some point, when he had been at peace – what he now recognised must have been a state of shock greater than he had ever heard of – he had known of Sidious' weakness. It was not one he could have exploited with his own strength, or his own skill – but Anakin had been powerful.

The storm found its way behind Sidious' attack and pierced his body with its light. Sidious' heart smelled like burning flesh.

Obi-Wan's victory began to ripen.

But creatures as strong in the force as Darth Sidious did not die instantly from mortal wounds, and Sidious cracked a smile.

"Interesting. In fact, I'd say this is your most fascinating victory yet, my apprentice."

There was a strobing flash of light, and Obi-Wan sat up in a bed, panting.

The mattress was soft, and the room was dark. There was a window with artificial light seeping underneath. Obi-Wan stepped off the bed and stumbled towards the window, and crouched down at the gap.

Outside, there was a lit corridor.

The rush of the fight was still with him. In his mind, he could see still see the blue glow of his lightsabre reflected in Sidious' cruel eyes. Without the dark storm of Anakin's life force, his own body felt like a soulless puppet. He tapped his fingers against the windowsill, but even that movement felt disconnected.

The fingers were small, and they didn't look like his at all.

He ran his hand through his hair, and it felt short and strange. His fingers touched something hanging from his head, and tugged at it only to feel pain. A snake or leech? But it had the feeling of hair – it felt like a braid.

A padawan's braid.

Obi-Wan breathed, slowly, smelling dust, and city pollution artificially cleaned, and plastic and metal, with a hint of wood. This place smelled like Coruscant.

Children. Dead. Anakin, alive.

The grief/shock smacked into him like an electric baton and his breath caught in his throat. The peace had abandoned him. The storm that took over his emotions felt wrong – tiny compared to what it had been when Anakin had—

What had Anakin done?

A quiet squeak left his mouth, and he turned back to the bed. This place looked like his room in his Master's quarters, and his body was shaped like it had been as a child. The world made no sense. If he could only fall back so far into shock that he could find the peace—

But he was his own miniature storm now.

The world around him was not real. Its smell was authentic, but fundamentally fake. His mind had touched a galaxy's worth of awareness, and in doing so, had lost the ability to perceive the world as it was.

He felt a child's callouses against the soft, smooth skin of his cheeks as he rested his palms against his cheeks and twisted his fingers in short hair.

He put his head in his hands, and grieved for his sanity.

The mind is a complex tool designed to interpret the world around it – and, through that interpretation, guide the self in interacting with that world so that its existence may be prolonged, or its tasks may be accomplished. It does this through the interpretation of senses.

Obi-Wan gazed a roof that could not exist and knew that he had taken leave of his senses.

It was so unfair.

But that was a selfish thought. Sidious was dead. Anakin was dead. Anakin had – somehow – used the last of his strength to strengthen Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had, through the destruction of the Jedi order itself, been thrown into a shock deep enough to have known all things – for a brief moment.

And now, if his scrambled mind could no longer interpret reality, who was he to complain, really?

He smiled.

(Did he? Did he really? Were the nerves in his cheeks working? Was his brain sending those signals – was it really receiving them?)

He didn't know.

He sighed.

Insanity was going to be a real pain in the neck.

Of course, his mind then decided that it was time for Qui-Gon Jinn to walk through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to play with the idea of a character believing that they were insane in a time travel travel scenario. This is as far as I got.


	2. Drabble: Dimming Light

Light and Dark are not absolutes. War has deepened the dark and dimmed the light. The beacons of the Jedi are as stark against the darkness as ever - perhaps more so- but they are a matchstick's dwindling flame that casts a shadow on the sunny day of their past and with no greater light to illuminate it, the dimming cannot be seen.

The light orders millions of lives to their deaths. The dark oils its machines and prints its circuits. In defence of life and light death and darkness overwhelm the galaxy.

Matchsticks smoke as their light goes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the idea that, as beacons of light, the Jedi cannot perceive their own darkness, because they are still the brightest things in the galaxy. On second thoughts, what if that's what the 'clouding' of the force is? Their light doesn't show as much, because it's not as bright? :3


	3. Drabble: The Privilege of Worthlessness - Obi-Wan

Worthlessness is a privilege he'd learned to appreciate too late.

The naive child he had been had needed to be needed. When he failed to become an apprentice, he had mistaken his strong grip on his fate for his life falling through his fingers.

He'd had the gift of expendability, free to take advantage of whenever he wished. He hadn't, and Qui-Gon had shackled him with the burden of worth.

He is a General, a leader. Now, his life belongs to thousands that need him.

The war will be over one day, and he'll be worthless once more.

Till then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually not depressed when I wrote this. The contrast between my state of mind and that described in the fic was surreal.


	4. Drabble: Anakin Skywalker Eats Live Bugs

Obi-Wan disliked Anakin on sight.

It was nothing personal – Anakin was simply a child of a remote world which probably had unique life forms with too many legs, some of which were going to end up on the ship, in his rooms, being studied and stroked and _bred_ , and if there was one thing Obi-Wan had learned to fear it was children’s universal desire to catch bugs.

 “Do you have any interesting bugs here?”

… And their enabling of Qui-Gon’s bug-keeping hobby.

Anakin’s answer was amazing: “Yeah, they’re delicious!”

Anakin was Obi-Wan’s new favourite person. He hoped Qui-Gon adopted him.


	5. Who Needs Morals When You Have The Force?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda-sorta an extension of the idea I was thinking about in chapter 2

Who needs morals when you have the Force?

Just – just listen, and it will guide you on the right path. Open your mind, and your body will follow. The Force understands every living being’s desire for comfort, love, even warfare. It will lead us to the galaxy with the least suffering.

So when you don’t know what to do – understand that you are merely master of your own body and experiences. The Force knows all,  _ is  _ all. Follow its light, and it will lead you to the galaxy of the least suffering.

Follow, follow, follow.

-

Hiding from the Jedi for thousands of years would not have been possible without the ability manipulate the currents of the Force. The last of the Sith would have been eradicated within a hundred years had they not learned to dissolve and dispurse their presence.

Learn, they did – and with no more than two Sith in the galaxy they were less than a drop in the bucket. No Force-sensitive could perceive them.

-

It was Darth Sidious’ Grandmaster who learned how to amplify the dark and slowly boil the Jedi alive.

It was Darth Sidious’ Master who began to move closer to the Jedi and manipulate the Force as it passed by them, forming visions and desires.

Darth Sidious inherited the galaxy and baited the trap.

-

Who attempted to kill Senator Padme Nabierre?

The Force has not yet revealed this information. If knowing it instantaneously would be the path of light, it would be known. Trust in that. The information would appear as a hunch or a vision. It has not.

So the key is the missing system.

-

When the Force is this clouded, no-one sees a shadow move in Anakin Skywalker’s mind.

-

A light shrouded in darkness cannot be followed.

In the dark, fears echo in the mind and the untested consciences of the Jedi stagger to their feet for the first time since childhood.

 


	6. Volcanic Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon sits beside Obi-Wan's bed and tries to understand Obi-Wan, who tries to understand whether he's in present or the past.
> 
> Everyone's brain hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this started out as Thoughts About Attachment but then it wandered around in circles and we ended up with this.

“I got attached,” Obi-Wan says when he’s finally coherent and well enough to say anything at all. His eyes are still distant, looking through the curtain drawn around his cot. He didn’t seem to see that, either.

It isn’t a satisfactory response to Qui-Gon’s question, and the Jedi Master feels disappointment settle over him. The emotion wafts, buffeted by the waves of confusion, terror, and grief that are rising and falling as they propagate away from his Padawan.

He waits for more information or direction from the boy. Obi-Wan looks away from the blue curtain and over to Qui-Gon’s hand where it rests on the man’s thigh. His hair -- even his tiny braid -- have been shorn away so the medics could access the wounds on his head.

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t kill him.”

“Xanatos?”

At last, Qui-Gon breaks his silence. Obi-Wan had been Xanatos’ prisoner for a short time. In such a situation, as a child, not being able to kill someone hardly counts as _attachment_. He’s confused.

But Obi-Wan shakes his head -- not Xanatos. “Anakin.”

The name is not familiar to Qui-Gon. It is surrounded by a low, pained groan that warbles with love. It sounds like the way Xanatos’ name feels in Qui-Gon’s mouth, where terror that Xanatos will soon die hugs terror that he will murder again.

He waits, again, to see if the child on the bed (he seems so small) will say more. Obi-Wan sighs explosively and finally meets Qui-Gon’s eyes.

“If I killed him, he would have died quickly and painlessly, but I cut him down and left him to burn. Master, I’m no Jedi. I would ask you to release this unworthy student from your tutelage.”

“Obi-Wan…”

The name is a whisper. The damage that Xanatos has done is severe, and Qui-Gon does not know how to repair it. He doesn’t know the methods that Obi-Wan has been subjected to, he only knows they are the same that took Xanatos from the Order.

He must not let Obi-Wan believe that what he was shown in his captivity is the only way forward. There is good in him, and Qui-Gon cannot allow him to abandon it.

“Do not centre on your anxieties, Padawan--”

Obi-Wan jolts upright.  “They are my reality!”

“No,” Qui-Gon says, keeping his voice level. “Look about you. Have you met this Anakin?”

He receives a shake of the head and Obi-Wan frowns. His lips part slowly as he processes his confusion.

“Here and now you are in the Temple, recovering from your captivity. Stay here with me, Obi-Wan--”

Fear, fury and love flash across Obi-Wan’s face in a rippling of his brows, eyelids, and lips. This must sound like empty platitudes to him. As much as Qui-Gon does not want to give the conversion methods of a darksider any more legitimacy than necessary, he needs to say something else.

“When you are in the present, we can look to the future. But for now, Padawan, focus on being here. Don’t let your mind wander so far before your body that it does not know whether we are in the present or the past.”


End file.
